


Rorschach's Journal

by tortoisegirl



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Diary/Journal, Fluff, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-25
Updated: 2009-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortoisegirl/pseuds/tortoisegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rorschach can't stop his growing affection for Daniel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rorschach's Journal

_Rorschach’s Journal  
October 7th, 1966_

 _Very successful patrol tonight. Found an informant with information about one of the larger prostitution rings running out of the Bronx. Didn’t need much persuasion before he was willing to give information to the police and testify against the necessary people. The ring should be broken up by next week. Also stopped a rape- man was the serial rapist terrorizing East Harlem for weeks. Plenty of evidence from the would-be victim. He’s likely to get life in prison._

 _After patrol Nite Owl shook my hand and said he’s glad we’re partners. Usually not fond of physical contact, but haven’t been minding it when it’s from Nite Owl. It felt right to shake hands with a good man like him. With a partner. He invited me up to his home for coffee. Refused, and left through the tunnel. No need to complicate a good partnership with things like coffee after patrol._

 _Complications may already be arising on their own. Felt the handshake for hours after I left. The pressure of his hand around mine, the heat felt even through the layers of gloves and gauntlets. It was hours before it faded. Not unpleasant though, like my boss pushing me back towards the machines or the whores who brush against me on the streets. Different than that._

 _Curious. Must be tired. Might request new hours at the shop to allow for more sleep. Obviously needed.  
_  
\-----

The new gadget was glinting under the yellow lights when Rorschach came into the kitchen. Normally he would take a seat at the table while Daniel finished eating or cleaning or whatever he was doing. But tonight the gun-like object cast an aura of suspicious newness around the table where it rested and Rorschach opted to lean in the doorway while Daniel put away his dishes.

After a few minutes of chatter about recent patrols Rorschach decided to bring it up.

“What’s this?” he asked, nodding towards the strange object.

“Oh, that,” Daniel said with a badly suppressed smile. Rorschach suspected he’d been waiting for him to ask about it. “That’s for you, actually. It’s a grapple hook gun. I thought it would be useful for, you know, getting around faster.”

He shrugged, but the look of delight on his face was unmistakable. Rorschach stared at him, inkblots changing evenly, not even looking at the gun anymore.

“Well?” Daniel said after a silent moment, and gestured to the table. “Go ahead. Get a feel for it.”

The two steps it took Rorschach to get to the table felt shakier than they should have. At first he just barely touched the gun’s surface, letting his fingers run experimentally across the sleek metal. Presently he curled his hand around the handle and picked it up. He turned it over in his hands slowly, not taking his eyes off it even as he spoke.

“Daniel. I can’t-“

“Oh no, I’m not letting you refuse it. You can’t deny that it’ll be useful. I saw you slip on that window ledge last week. You would have fallen four stories if you hadn’t caught yourself.” Daniel’s face reddened a bit, but Rorschach didn’t see. His attention was still on the gun, now running his fingers over the folded prongs of the hook. “Anyway, you’ve seen how many silly gadgets I make for myself. I’m happy to make something for you.”

“Thank you,” Rorschach said, and he couldn't count the number of things he hoped were communicated in those two words.

Daniel smiled and promised to show him how it worked on patrol. Rorschach nodded and slipped the gun into an inner coat pocket where it fit perfectly.

\-----  
 _  
Rorschach’s Journal  
December 16th, 1966_

 _Stopped a shipment of heroin from being unloaded at the Chelsea docks tonight. Successful, but a hard won fight; 15 men, all of them armed, several with automatic weapons. They pulled the guns on us immediately, likely thinking they could intimidate us into leaving. Stupid mistake. Only made it easier to identify which ones to take down first. Outside drug source was in business with both the Underboss’s crime syndicate and a series of smaller distributors. A possible connection to the rash of heroin dealer arrests in the West Village? Area may warrant another search for the Underboss’s headquarters._

 _Currently at Daniel’s house. He once again offered his home for rest and recovery after patrol. I accepted. Unsure why. Injuries were not especially bad and returning to apartment would not have been a problem. Companionable feelings for Daniel have been strong lately, but have not affected my actions before. Several packets of heroin were broken during the bust- possible I inhaled some. Thought process may be temporarily muddled._

 _Talked in the kitchen about the drug case while drinking bottles of Coke. Daniel didn’t finish his, claiming he doesn’t like soda that much. Suspect he buys it for me. Were both very tired and didn’t talk long. Too bad- I enjoyed it. May come by early before patrol tomorrow for more time to talk. To discuss the case._

 _Never been on the second floor of his house before. Should keep a record of the floor plan and other details. May prove useful someday. In the guest room right now. Across the hall is an office/workroom and a bathroom, and Daniel’s room is adjacent to this one. Saw into his room briefly while he was in the shower- owl prints on the walls prove silly fixation on the birds; window faces the small street behind the house; bed is against the wall shared with the guest bedroom. Window in the bathroom also faces the back street- a fairly sturdy drainage pipe running along the outside wall could be utilized if a quick escape through the window is ever needed. Investigated the bathroom shortly after Daniel finished his shower. Still smelled like soap and Daniel’s aftershave. He shaves with safety razors. Impractical- straight razor much more sensible and can be used as a weapon in an emergency. Medicine cabinet contains mostly basic medical supplies. His toothbrush is blue._

 _Can’t sleep. Probably a mistake to stay here, particularly given recent feelings towards Daniel. He checked in two hours ago to ask if I needed anything before going to bed, wearing just a t-shirt and boxers. The cut on his thigh that needed stitches last week is healing well. Will stay the night anyway. The thought of sleeping this close to Daniel is...comforting._

 _Must remember to research methods of purging drugs from the body tomorrow.  
_

\-----

  
Rorschach’s stream of reassurances and promises of safety kept Daniel conscious just long enough to guide the Owlship through the tunnel and land it with an uncharacteristic lurching gracelessness. He stood and managed one precarious step before collapsing.

Carrying the dead weight of his partner’s body without agitating the wound was tricky, but Rorschach got Daniel over to the cot in the brightly lit medical bay of the Nest. He stripped off the heavy snowsuit; the blood coating the lining was obscenely vibrant against the white. The amount of blood was something Rorschach was not letting himself process at the moment.

Grey fabric was cut away to reveal the gash running from Daniel’s shoulder across his back and ending just barely an inch from his spine. It was deep, and blood gushed from the cut across skin already stained pink. Rorschach moved like lightning with towels and water and antiseptic and finally with the suture tools.

It was somewhere around the eighth stitch that Daniel’s eyes flickered open.

“Rorschach,” he groaned, rough and little more than a whisper.

Rorschach pressed his elbow into Daniel’s arm to stop his shifting. “Stay still. Won’t take much longer.”

“Will I... What-”

“You’ll be alright.” He pushed the needle through the torn edge, rotated it until it curved out from the bloody center. “Lost consciousness. Lost a lot of blood. Safe now.”

Daniel hummed an acknowledgment and fell silent, blinking slowly as the needle flashed over his skin. Five more stitches went in before he spoke again.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, Rorschach.”

Audibly, a brief grunt was the only response. But Rorschach’s hands paused for a just a second over Daniel’s back, and for the rest of the operation the black inkblots swirled heavy and fast and pooled thickly over his cheeks.

\-----  
 _  
Rorschach’s Journal  
January 3d, 1967_

 _The filth of the city is ruthless. It is a creeping fog, black and toxic, seeping into everything and mixing with the air itself to be inhaled by all. Even I cannot escape it._

 _Received a tip about a gang meeting at an office building in the financial district; supposedly working out a turf war, sure to end in violence. Stakeout before the meeting required confinement in close quarters. Prolonged physical contact with Daniel caused... physical reaction. Sick. The depravity of filth. Tried to solve the problem once the gang arrived by delivering justice to the scum who deserved it. Situation did not improve._

 _Night was something of a blur. Unsure how many gang members there were, or how many were alive when the police arrived. Forgot to interrogate about turf war and rival gang. Sloppy. Circumstances must not repeat themselves._

 _Can’t lie to myself and claim it was merely an involuntary physical reaction. Know it was related to my perversions regarding Daniel. In that small space, no choice but to be pressed against him, hearing him breathing, feeling him so close-_

 _Plan on staying away from him until urges can be controlled. Patrolling alone for some time. Will be better for both of us.  
_  
\-----

“Rorschach, let up a little tonight, will ya? You nearly killed those two muggers.”

Rorschach’s strides didn’t slow as he navigated around the clutter of the alley. “Deserved it,” he said shortly. He paused to scan a street branching off into the darkness before resuming the same quick pace. Daniel had to hop a step to catch up.

“I’m glad we stopped them, but we don’t want any dead bodies here. If there’s anything bothering you-“

“Left them alive. Justice is justice, Nite Owl, and they deserved what they got. Thought you agreed with me.”

“Look, it’s just-“ Daniel grabbed Rorschach’s arm and pulled him to a rough stop. Rorschach made a sound of annoyance, but Daniel’s grip remained firm. “It’s… it’s not just the violence. Last time you were this aggressive it was right before you disappeared for three weeks. I don’t need to know where you were or even why you left, but…”

He dropped his head briefly to the side, then raised it again to look at Rorschach face on. “I don’t want you to disappear like that again. I was worried and I missed yo- missed patrolling with you.”

Rorschach remained silent and tense, but there weren’t any signs that he was about to hit him or storm off. Daniel gulped. “If there’s anything wrong, you can tell me. You know that right? We’re partners. You don’t have to run off.”

“Didn’t know you were worried,” Rorschach said, and his voice had something in it Daniel had never heard before. “Apologies, Daniel. Can’t promise I won’t have to disappear again. Personal security reasons. But won’t leave like that again without telling you.”

A pause, but neither of them moved.

“You’re a good partner, Daniel.”

Nothing but sincerity in his voice. Daniel smiled and gave his arm a small squeeze before letting go. They continued their patrol, and Rorschach didn’t unnecessarily beat anyone to a pulp for the rest of the night.

\-----  
 _  
Rorschach’s Journal  
February 14th, 1967_

 _Attempted robbery at a jewelry store tonight. Suffered minor injury: man charged at Daniel with a knife– I stopped him, but was nicked in the ribs. Daniel was unharmed. Thieves ignored jewelry cases, went instead for a safe in the back. Chose this night specifically- heavy business day for the store promised a large take._

 _Sickening, this day. Glorification of every skewed moral that rots people from the inside out, convinces them that material goods are vital while things like values and moral fiber can be tossed aside. The safe at the store was bloated with the money of people who think they can buy love. Cold dead stones, decadent perfumes, dying flowers trussed up to hide that they’ll be gone in a week- see the advertisements everywhere. Objects meant to fill the holes that are eating away at people’s humanity._

 _That is not love, no more than what the whores offer on street corners is love. No. When a man feels enough for his country to risk life and limb in its service- the Comedian, half his life given protecting his country and its people- that is love. When partners stand shoulder to shoulder to face monsters and do not flinch. Do not hesitate to throw themselves in front of the blade to protect the other. That is love. Stronger than the insincerity of those who have to prove it with money; than the lust of the filth that needs to buy it on the streets. None of that is love._

 _This is not tainted by any of that.  
_  
\-----

“Rorschach, stay here tonight. You can have the guest room again.”

“No need, Daniel. Not injured or tired. Will be fine getting home.”

“I know, but… stay anyway.”

“Why-”

“Look, it’s been a rough week for me. I’m pretty drained. I don’t know if it’s all the stupid Valentine’s Day advertising around making me feel lousy or what, but I could really use the company tonight. So stay. For me. Please?”

“…Fine.”

\-----  
 _  
Rorschach’s Journal  
February 15th, 1967_

 _Staying at Daniel’s house again. Only doing it because he asked me to; said he needed the company. Don’t want to be here. Uncomfortable. Wasn’t hungry, so we watched television for some time. Daniel kept trying to start a conversation. Could tell he was annoyed that I wasn’t responding and he went to bed soon enough. Don’t mean to be the cause of his bad mood, but I have no interest in idol chatter tonight._

 _A weakness, for him to rely on people like this, to need others around him. And yet I agreed to stay. Same shortcoming developing in me? Plausible, unfortunately. My weaknesses regarding Daniel have already been made obvious._

 _Reread last night’s journal entry. What I wrote about Daniel. Wrote that I  
_  
The pen stopped, hovering over the word that stood brazenly in the forefront of his mind. Unwilling to let it escape to be sealed in ink and paper, permanent and inescapable. He moved lower to start on a fresh line.  
 _  
Don’t know what to do. Avoiding Daniel a possibility, but not an ideal solution. Even if I informed him about leaving beforehand Daniel would not be happy. Would worry about me. Don’t want to avoid him anyway. But unsure if I should stay if these feelings cannot be subdued. Pointless, luxurious sentimentalities, distracting and dangerous to rational thinking. Ridiculous too, to think that I could lo  
_  
Rorschach wrenched the pen away from the paper. He looked at what he’d just written; his fingers twitched around the pen but he forcibly stilled them and kept staring at the word that was almost there.

Suddenly irritated, he jammed the pen between the pages and tossed the journal on bedside table, upsetting a small wooden owl figurine sitting next to the lamp.

He started pacing the room, bed to door, door to window, window to bed, but his thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. And that word, always there no matter how much he tried to ignore it and force it back and despise it.

Before he knew it he was out in the hallway, and four quick strides later outside Daniel’s bedroom. The door was open just a crack.

The bedroom was darker than the hallway. Strange shapes that that he recognized as furniture broke up the shadows with a more solid darkness; stretched on the bed was the one particular lump of darkness that drew his attention. His eyes adjusted as he crept forward, and when he reached the bed he looked down with clear vision and a less than clear mind at Daniel, wrapped against the winter chill in a green and white comforter. Hair that he knew looked flatly monochromatic under the harsh light of the Owlship and took on a more bronzed sheen in the light of the kitchen spread dark across the pillow; eyes that he knew could spot a red-tailed hawk nesting on a ledge twelve stories up and would shimmer with delight as they followed its path through the sky lay shut and relaxed. The shape of Daniel’s body was clear even through the thick blanket and Rorschach drank in the sight.

He didn’t know how long he stood there. Watching, thinking, knowing the deviancy of what he was doing and watching some more anyway. When seeing wasn’t enough and his hand reached out almost of its own volition to brush across Daniel’s shoulder, shaking as it withdrew, he knew what he had to do.

He backed away from the bed and slipped out of the room silently. As he navigated his way through the sleeping house he forced his mind to go blank, refusing to let himself think about what he was leaving behind and what it meant for his future. It wasn’t until he felt the cold night air on his face and familiar concrete under his feet that he let the thoughts start flooding back.

Last time he only managed to stay away from Daniel for three weeks before his pathetic moral failings drove him back. He’d have to do something to prevent a repeat of that. Stay as far away as possible from the areas Nite Owl frequently patrolled. Possibly rip out the journal entries with the incriminating reminders. Maybe, though he needed the journal for-

Journal. The journal. He stopped dead. The weight of the little book was notoriously absent from his coat pocket. His hands flew into the trench and then into the suit jacket, patting down every pocket he could find in a desperate hope that this was not happening. But he could clearly see the small brown book next to the toppled wooden owl on the bedside table, and he cursed himself for being so careless.

He bolted back down the tunnel, through the Nest, and up the stairs to retrace his path through the house. His steps, though driven by an angry urgency tinged with more than a little anxiety, were as quick and quiet as they always were. On the second floor the lamp he’d left on in the guest room spilled a yellow glow under the door and into the hallway, and his shadow stretched long on the wall behind him. He couldn’t remember the last time the sight of his own shadow made him nervous. His eyes darted down the hall towards Daniel’s room as he placed a hand on the door, but everything was still and silent. He pushed the door open.

The plan was simply to grab the journal and leave exactly has he had before. His eyes went immediately to the bedside table and were met with empty space where the journal should have been. So intent on his plan was he that it was a moment before his brain registered that the missing journal was the least of his problems.

Daniel was on the edge of the bed with the journal open across his lap. His head was bowed, forefinger and thumb delicately holding the corner of a page, and even from the distance Rorschach could see his eyes flying across the cramped writing. Rorschach made a sound he usually reserved for darkened streets and the creatures who inhabited them. His hands curled into hard fists, ready to pummel the man he once called friend for this incredible betrayal, this breech of trust. But Daniel looked up at him and the expression on his face sent a jolt of horror through Rorschach as a dozen armed gang members never could.

He knew. The journal was open to the page where he’d carelessly stuck the pen; to that last entry where he had written…

And it was there, written across his face as clearly as the ink on the paper.

Rorschach was flooded with the old fight or flight instinct, a familiar feeling suddenly made new by a situation never before faced. Normally Rorschach would chose to fight, but this- the thing he’d been struggling against within himself for weeks, months, and was now staring at him through Daniel’s face- this he could not fight.

He ran.

Daniel was after him in a flash. He shouted apologies and excuses as he ran; he’d heard noises and saw the light left on, didn’t know the journal was his, he’s sorry, just wanted to see who’s it was, he’s sorry, he’s sorry, come back. But even as the words came tumbling out he knew that if Rorschach was simply angry about the journal, things wouldn’t be playing out like they were.

Rorschach had a head start and was moving really fast, but Daniel chased down criminals for a living too, and his strides were longer. By the time Rorschach reached the top of the basement stairs Daniel was only a step behind. He was preparing to vault over the railing to the lower level of the Nest when Daniel caught up and slammed into him, pinning him against the metal rails. Rorschach let out a loud oomph as the wind was knocked out of him. Daniel seized the opportunity to spin them both around and shove Rorschach against the wall, using his larger body to pin him there.

Rorschach wasn’t giving up that easily, and holding him was like trying to restrain a terrified animal. Daniel wasn’t going to give up easily either. He pressed all his strength against the flailing body and started talking. Babbling, he knew, but he didn’t care, no more than he cared that his words were punctuated with grunts and hisses of pain when an escaped knee or elbow managed to get a hit it.

“Rorschach, don’t –nggh-. Wait, just listen to me. What you wrote –ahhgh, ow- it’s okay, it’s all okay.”

Rorschach snarled, and Daniel was reminded of the poor punk who’d tried to trap him against an alley wall like this last week and was probably still recovering from it. It didn’t matter.

“There’s nothing wrong with loving-”

“No,” Rorschach spat. “Not love.” The ferocity behind the denial twisted something in Daniel’s heart.

“Well, whatever you want to call it, I...I feel the same way.”

“Impossible.”

A hand freed in the struggle dealt a jab to Daniel’s ribs before he could grip the wrist and pin it to the wall again, wincing. “Oh believe me, it’s very possible.”

“You’re not like me. Too good for perversions like that.”

“There’s nothing perverted about it! God, Rorschach, why would you- umph, _ouch_ , Rorschach will you stop-”

“Let me go, Daniel.” Growled out, low and dangerous. “Love is pointless.”

Daniel bit his tongue in frustration. Logic wasn’t working. Daniel knew it wasn’t working because this was Rorschach he was talking to and this was likely one of the only topics his brilliant logical mind couldn’t break down and analyze and understand.

So Daniel did something wholly illogical.

The kiss was unlike anything either of them had experienced before. Usually the people Daniel kissed weren’t struggling so hard he had to squeeze his arms around them to keep them from running away. The fabric under his mouth was smooth and cool and nothing like skin, but he felt the outline of Rorschach’s lips pressing through and none of these weird differences mattered.

For Rorschach, everything about this was new. The way Daniel had suddenly leaned forward and pressed against him had at first registered as an attack, and his wild struggling continued as Daniel’s lips touched his. Then strong arms tightened around him and pulled him close, and things clicked. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t be giving in this easily, but Daniel was holding onto him and his enraged, panicky writhing stilled.

It only lasted a few seconds, but it might as well have been eons. Neither was quite sure how long it lasted when they finally parted, but both were panting for breath. For a moment they just stood there together, chests heaving.

Daniel loosened his arms took a step back, hands still curled into Rorschach’s coat but shifting just far enough away to really look at his partner.

The inkblots moved faster than usual, and when Rorschach spoke voice had something of a wavering edge. “Never said anything about this before.”

Daniel’s gaze finally broke, his eyes flitting between the mask and his hands on Rorschach’s arms and the dirty wall behind him. “Yeah, well, it hasn’t exactly been easy for me either. I thought you’d kill me if you found out. That’s why when I read what you’d written I was... God, it was so-”

Whatever it was never got out; Daniel was abruptly cut off when Rorschach punched him square in the gut. He reeled backwards, doubled over and clutching his stomach, and looked up at Rorschach with wide eyes.

Rorschach’s hands were already back in his pockets. “Read my journal, Daniel. Very bad.”

Daniel could have laughed. He never thought he’s be glad for his partner’s anger, but Rorschach hitting him about the journal instead of about the huge barrier that Daniel just dragged him across, even if it was just a step, felt like nothing short of a miracle. He could have laughed for days out of sheer joy, but he figured any laughter now wouldn’t be well received, so settled for a few deep breaths and straightened up.

“Yeah, I guess I deserved that,” he wheezed, hand still cradling his aching gut. Rorschach grunted, and there was just the tiniest, barest hint of amusement in the sound. Daniel thought his heart would burst. “It’ll never happen again, I promise. But, hey, you told me you’d stay the night. You’re not gonna back out on me, are you?”

Rorschach considered that for a moment, quietly observing the man standing across from him. He shook his head.

They moved to the staircase and, together, ascended the steps to the waiting house above.

\-----

 _Rorschach’s Journal  
February 16th, 1967_

 _Staying with Daniel again- second night in a row. He’s in the kitchen cooking dinner. Very hungry- smells very good._

 _Seems he and I have developed some of the same weaknesses. Possible there’s a contaminant in the water affecting us both? Maybe. Plenty of time to investigate further. Don’t see any need to rush to correct the situation, however._

 _Might not such a bad thing after all.  
_


End file.
